A Ticklish German Pup
by Crystalteen
Summary: No matter what it takes, Vincent is determined to get Diedrich to smile and laugh once and for all. One-Shot.


**A/N: Greetings, all of my fantastic viewers! :D**

**First of all, in case any of you are reading my other _Black Butler _story "Deformed," allow me to assure you that I'm still working on it. I haven't given up on it, nor am I planning to. However, I've been swamped with _plenty _of homework and exams lately. Not only that, but I've lacked the writing spirit for quite some time and needed to step away from my laptop. With that being said, please remain patient with me and rest in the reassurance that I'm still writing "Deformed." It's just taking me some time to get back into is all. Plus, I had my cousin's wedding to attend and it had been on my mind for awhile. :)**

**Second of all, let's give it up for this being my first ever official post of 2019! :D I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, and Saint Patrick's Day! :D :D**

**Now, I decided to write this silly, fluffy, tickling one-shot that revolves around Vincent and Diedrich. :D This is because I genuinely enjoy the strong bond that Vincent and Diedrich had, as well as the fact that they really do express how some best friends behave with each other. I simply wanted to focus on their friendship in a piece of my work - and thus, this one-shot idea came to mind! :D**

**There _might _be a sequel to this one-shot in the future, but I'm not entirely sure yet. As of now, I'm truly hoping that you'll all enjoy what I have pieced together here. This literally took me _months _to write!**

**Keep in mind, I absolutely adore feedback and I appreciate it very much! Feel free to share your thoughts in the reviews or you can PM them to me at anytime! Thank you! :D :D :) :)**

**Well, I believe that I've said everything that I wished to say as of now. **

**Happy reading, everybody!**

* * *

With every passing second, Diedrich was finding it increasingly difficult to believe that he had allowed himself to be tricked into such an unfortunate position. He couldn't tell whether he was more angry at the Queen's Guard Dog, or more embarrassed for not suspecting the cheeky scheme sooner.

Normally, whenever Vincent Phantomhive called Diedrich and requested for him to venture all the way back to London from Germany, there was some type of business that involved orders from Her Majesty that was needed to be discussed. However, earlier when the German baron arrived at the manor and attempted to cut right to the chase like he always did, Vincent wouldn't seem to let him in on the reason as to what this visit was all about.

It wasn't out of the ordinary for the Earl to make small talk, such as asking his former university colleague how he was doing and how life in Germany was treating him since there were times in which their visits weren't as frequent. Vincent _had _asked those questions and―again, like always―Diedrich answered them hastily and blandly before trying to get down to business again. Unfortunately, the Queen's Watchdog only flashed one of his charming grins and declared that there would be plenty of time for them to discuss the purpose of their visit. Shortly afterwards, while nonchalantly brushing off Diedrich's bitter judgment and making more idle chit-chat after each of his constant demands to know what was going on, Vincent asked the German nobleman if he would like to join him in trying out some new wine that had recently been delivered to the estate.

Even now, Diedrich could still taste the flavor of cherries in his mouth and it honestly made a piece of him wish that he were able to punch himself upside the head. No matter how many times he tried swooshing his tongue around or running it against his teeth, he couldn't get rid of the strong flavor. That only made him even _more_ annoyed.

Before, he had cocked an eyebrow at the Earl's bright face and felt confusion bubbling inside of him as he thought about what he was just offered. It wasn't _too_ early in the day to enjoy some wine and the children were out visiting town with their mother and red-obsessed aunt, meaning that they wouldn't be trying to sneak in to swipe any of the "grownup beverages" like the eldest twin had convinced his younger brother to attempt doing with him on a few occasions. After all, they were too young and pure to understand anything about alcohol ... and luckily, they never succeeded in sneaking any. Still, that never stopped Vincent from being _much _more watchful with his boys whenever he was hosting an event or they were attending a place that offered alcoholic drinks.

That thought caused the German baron to hesitate for a moment to truly consider the Earl's proposal, only because he knew that it wasn't so common for him to hand out wine anymore and he rarely drank to begin with. With those twins of his, Vincent often found himself living up to the British stereotype even more by mainly having and serving tea during meetings, meals, and other events. Nonetheless, Diedrich still chose to deny the offer and insisted once again that they started talking about whatever it was that requested his presence.

The Queen's Guard Dog wouldn't take no for an answer, still wearing that charismatic grin of his as he cut the German nobleman off and _insisted _that they had a wine break―even though they hadn't accomplished anything except pointless babbling in the eyes of Diedrich.

Before Diedrich could try protesting, Vincent had already stood up from his armchair and he began speaking merrily about how he couldn't believe that it had already been four months since he had last seen the German man―when he, Rachel, and the twins were visiting Germany on a family vacation. Then, the brown-eyed nobleman presented a silver tray that had been on a table behind his chair, placing it down on the other small, circular table that was positioned between the large armchairs. There were already two long-stemmed glasses prepared, filled halfway with the vibrant, classy, fruit-scented liquid. They looked exactly the same, except for the fact that the left glass was rimmed in a crystallized substance that perfectly resembled some type of sugary frost.

Diedrich's confusion only thickened, mixing together with his frustration as he examined the fancy bottle that was also on the shiny tray, labeled something in French. That's when Vincent picked up the glass with the sugared rim, holding it correctly between his fingers as he held it out to his oldest friend and explained that he had already asked Tanaka to pour the wine not long before Diedrich had arrived.

With some reluctance, the German aristocrat finally let out a groan and agreed to take the glass from the Earl―mainly to get him to shut up. He just stared at it, listening to Vincent with a dull expression as he went on explaining further about how he understood that Diedrich preferred his alcoholic beverages with sugared rims. For the briefest moment, Diedrich could've sworn that he saw something mysterious flicker in the Earl's eyes as he mentioned the preparation of his glass; but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, not giving the German Lord the chance to identify whatever it was or to even confirm whether it was_ actually _there in the first place.

Eventually, after about another minute that contained yet another random conversation with Vincent's views on London's most recent weather and Diedrich's blunt remarks on how everything still seemed the same to him, Diedrich watched as Vincent had finally lifted his glass up to his face. At first, he just swooshed it a little under his nose, obviously from him wanting to take the opportunity to admire the fresh, crisp, berry aroma. Then, with a delighted glint in his eyes, Vincent rose the glass up to his mouth and took a long sip of his wine. He really _did _have the talent of being able to make even the tiniest, simplest actions look incredibly charming and tempting.

Upon observing Her Majesty's Guard Dog, Diedrich dropped his gaze down to his own glass. The crystal-like specks that neatly covered the rim nearly made his tastebuds tingle and as soon as he saw his reflection staring back at him in the slight ripples of the crimson liquid, the German baron could've sworn that he felt his whole throat become dry. So, after a brief pause that was accompanied by Diedrich silently running his tongue across his lips, he gave his shoulders a slight shrug and finally lifted the glass up to his lips, tilting his back a little while doing the same to his beverage.

As this happened, Vincent watched closed from where he was sitting in the opposite armchair with his back perfectly straight and one of his legs crossed properly over the other. He looked completely nonchalant and just as laid-back as always, still holding his sparkling glass up to his lips ... except, he was no longer taking anymore sips of his wine. Not only that, but regardless of his calm pose, his eyes were suddenly much wider than usual. They looked to be as big as plates and were filled with eagerness―as if he were a young child that was waiting for the first slice of cake to be served.

Despite how long it had been since the German aristocrat last had wine, he easily remembered the impeccable taste. He took the first swig, followed by a couple of others, and rested his eyes shut as he basked in the flavor ... but something wasn't right. At first, the wine tasted perfectly fine―like fresh, exclusive, sweetened cherries. However, by the time Diedrich had swallowed his fifth sip and nearly finished the whole beverage, he detected an abrupt change in the taste. It had become awfully sharp and sour, as if the wine had spoiled right then and there. If there _had _to be a description for it, Diedrich could've sworn that it tasted like a mixture of vinegar, dishwater, paint, and expired berries.

Needless to say, the new taste clashed completely with the prior sweetness that _still _somehow managed to stay on the German Lord's tastebuds. He nearly gagged, immediately popping his eyes back open and lowering his glass so quickly to the point where he nearly made what was left of his wine fall out. His whole body practically shuttered in disgust as he flew his other hand up to his mouth, using it in an attempt to smother a line of coughs that was later accompanied by an unpleasant German term that had escaped from Diedrich's system out of total reflex.

However, instead of growing confused or immediately becoming concerned for him like the German nobleman thought that he would, he overheard the sound of the Queen's Watchdog beginning to let out a couple of soft chuckles. In return, Diedrich quickly lifted his head ... and as soon as he did, he saw that Vincent was staring back at him with a large, devilish grin plastered on his face. It was similiar to the exact smile that Diedrich saw him give to criminals, whenever he knew that one was lying or about to get what was coming to them without even knowing it. The German baron couldn't tell if that made him more alarmed or more confused. After all, he wasn't a threat―he was Vincent's fag and the two of them had known each other since their university years.

Vincent remained perfectly calm, not shifting from his natural position as he told Diedrich to "just relax" and that "the discomfort would pass quickly." Following that, he casually lifted his glass back up to his lips and took another sip of his wine, as if this was something that happened everyday. To be fair, as the Queen's Guard Dog, Vincent had studied, witnessed, and handled a variety of unbelievable situations ... but in_ that _particular moment, something was definitely different.

At first, Diedrich just stared in bewilderment. Then, after a brief moment of silence, he began to ask what in the hell the Earl was talking about. Unfortunately, just as the German baron made it halfway through his sentence, he ended up getting cut off by a sudden wave of drowsiness. It tingled through his skull like a cloud of static and was accompanied by a mild, uncomfortable jabbing sensation in the direct center of his brain―like there was a finger that was trying to drill its way out.

Diedrich clenched his eyes shut and lifted his hand up to his forehead, groaning. It felt like he was experiencing a migraine that couldn't decide whether to get better or worse, going back and forth from increasing the tingling sensation to decreasing it. Then, as the German Lord cracked his eyes back open, he noticed two things. One, he could only lift his eyelids about halfway before they refused to go any higher, suddenly feeling heavier than bricks. And two, his vision was starting to flicker back and forth from blurry to clear as he redirected his attention back over to the brown-eyed nobleman―who, by the way, was still naturally slurping what was left of his beverage.

While focusing on his breathing and beginning to hear what was like a soft ringing in his ears, Diedrich did his best to twist his face into one of his usual glares as he shakily attempted to push himself up onto his feet. He tried asking the Earl what he did to him while incorporating a few explicit words of his choice. Nonetheless, Diedrich ended up groaning again before he could finish the question and he rose his hand back up to his head. He was growing more light-headed by the minute and he could feel his legs starting to become weak beneath him.

With this, it only took a couple of seconds before the German baron nearly toppled down to the ground ... but just as a majority of the muscles in his legs gave out, Vincent sprang up from his armchair, sat his half-drank glass of wine aside, and managed to catch his dear friend before he could collapse. In the process, the German aristocrat ended up letting his own glass slip from his fingers and it shattered against the floor, spilling what was left of the crimson liquid as well. Her Majesty's Guard Dog didn't care about that though, focused on preventing the other nobleman from falling to the floor with one of his elegant smiles back on his face.

Vincent shushed Diedrich, trying to get him to stay quiet in order to prevent alerting any of the servants as he carefully settled him back down in the opposite armchair. After that, while leaning down to be at eye level with the German dog, Vincent spoke kindly about how he wanted Diedrich to avoid standing up so he wouldn't face the risk of hurting himself. As a response, Diedrich let out a small growl and, with a pointed look in his drooping eyes, attempted asking the Earl once again what in the hell he did to him. Nevertheless, instead of getting an answer, all he heard was Vincent letting out some more snickers. That was last thing the blue-eyed aristocrat remembered, because his vision had grown entirely fuzzy, his head had rolled back against the armchair, and everything went black.

Eventually, the German Lord woke back up with a slight throbbing sensation remaining in his head. He stifled a moan of minor discomfort, shifting his head from side to side for a moment before he made a move to rub his eyes. However, it ended up coming to Diedrich's attention almost immediately that he was unable to move his arms. It took a couple of seconds for him to fully process what the problem was since he was still trying to snap out of his awakening; but as soon as he did, the German baron's eyes widened in shock when he realized that it wasn't just his _arms_ that he couldn't move―but his _entire body_ was practically immobile.

While trying to blink away the remaining fuzziness from his vision, Diedrich tilted his head back as far as it could go and saw an upside down view of pair of thick, strong, metal restraints connected around his wrists, holding them together. After that, he dropped his gaze down to his lower body out of reflex and, much to his dismay, noticed that there was a similar pair of restraints secured around his ankles. That's when the blue-eyed aristocrat realized something else: he was perfectly laid out on top of a long, neatly polished, ebony table with his arms bound above his head and his legs spread fairly apart in order to have his shoes lined up with the bottom corners. Then, while trying to frantically tug at the restraints, Diedrich glanced around in an attempt to locate Vincent and noticed yet _another_ thing. He was no longer in the Billiards Room of the Phantomhive estate.

The new atmosphere was a stuffy, medium-sized room with a stone tile floor that had _definitely_ seen far better days and olive-colored, paneled walls that were mostly covered by aging cracks and old water stains. It was also very dim, being lit only by a single light that hung in the direct center of the room since there were no windows. Then, there was the setup. Almost all of the furniture and items that were in the room were questionable, managing to send uncomfortable chills through the German Lord's body.

On the side of the room where he was strapped down, there were plenty of raven-colored cabinets and shelves that were completely dusty and cluttered with a variety of old, random knick-knacks. Although, there was a much slimmer and far more organized table that stood out. It was surrounded by all of the other compartments and lined up perfectly against the west wall, which was mostly decorated by a series of handmade diagrams of the human body. On it, there were hundreds of neatly placed jars that contained items like cotton balls, swabs, tongue depressors, bandages, and the list could go on for miles. There were also a couple of First-Aid kits and a whole collection of books that revolved around the human bones and muscles being held perfectly in place by some realistic skulls that were being used as paperweights. However, the main detail that caught Diedrich's eye was the group of sharp, clean, surgical tools that were in the direct center of the table, laid out across a mat. At the sight of them, the blue-eyed baron could've sworn that he felt his blood become colder than ice and he quickly turned his head in the opposite direction to see the other side of the room.

The opposite side of the room was just as unsettling. It had another ebony table that was very similiar to the one that Diedrich had found himself trapped against. Except, this table was occupied by a piece of framework that was still in the process of being created, surrounded almost entirely by sawdust and chips of wood. At first, Diedrich didn't have the slightest clue as to what he was looking at; but when he saw the east wall, the he could've sworn that he felt his heart nearly punch its way all the way through his chest. There were _coffins _prompt up against the wall, as well as lying across the floor in a somewhat cluttered mess. Some were missing their lids and only had their frames completed, while others were already built and in the process of either getting painted or having their interiors decorated with embroidery, faux, or silk.

Lastly, aside from the variety of creepy saws, drills, and other tools that were hanging from hooks on the wall, there were a couple of realistic mannequins spread out with horrified expressions on their faces. While some of them were lying down in a few of the incomplete coffins, others were standing with measuring tape wrapped around their waists and heads. Each mannequin had half of their figures representing the outside of the human body while the other half showed what was inside. Needless to say, the new atmosphere was eerie as hell and even though the German nobleman would _never _admit it, there was a piece of him that was certainly freaked out. Nonetheless, he was still far more angry than anything, almost instantly recalling everything that had happened between him and the Earl before he had slipped into an unconscious state.

And that's how Diedrich found himself in his current situation. He had now been awake for the past fifteen minutes, going back and forth from grunting and yanking at his unrelenting cuffs, to nearly screaming at the top of his lungs for Vincent since he just _knew_ that he _had_ to be somewhere nearby. Although, with every time he yelled, the blue-eyed aristocrat was finding it increasingly difficult to believe that Her Majesty's Guard Dog hadn't seemed to have heard him yet.

"PHANTOMHIVE!" Diedrich hollered out for the millionth time, practically rattling some of the objects in the room from how loud he was being. "PHANTOMHIVE, WHERE IN THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

Unfortunately, there was _still _no sign of the Earl. As a result of this, the German baron snarled to himself and cursed a little in his mind, swearing with God as his witness that he sure as hell wasn't going to let Vincent get away with placing him in a predicament like _this. _After that, Diedrich tilted his head back with impatience flaring in his eyes like wildfire as he tried once again to break himself free from his restraints by eagerly twisting his wrists and tugging hard at his arms. However, all he managed to do was knock the metal repeatedly against the wood, creating a sound that almost perfectly resembled chains, and he ended up grinding his teeth a little from feeling some strain already starting to build up in his muscles since he was trying to move so much.

"UGH!" Diedrich yelled as he went back to shooting daggers up at the ceiling, but not without racking his wrist cuffs against the edge of the table one more time out of frustration. "That cheeky jackass, I can't believe him! This is a new low, even for him! I swear, when I get out of here..."

The German nobleman stopped himself before he could finish that sentence, letting out a small sneer. Then, he rolled his eyes and shook his head to himself, deciding that there would be plenty of time for that later.

"PHANTOMHIVE!" Diedrich shouted yet again, managing to make the single light that was in the room to sway a little. "I KNOW THAT YOU'RE AROUND HERE SOMEWHERE! JUST SHOW YOURSELF TO ME ALREADY!"

That time, after about five seconds went by with Vincent still not appearing, the blue-eyed aristocrat released a much more irritated groan.

"_PHANTOMHIVE! ... _SOMEBODY?! ANYBODY?! ... SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Suddenly, shortly after that final outburst, Diedrich's heart took a much bigger leap in his chest when he detected the sound of an aging knob being turned. With no hesitation, he lifted his head―which wasn't very easy or comfortable to do since the rest of his body was secured against the table―and he locked his attention on the only door that was provided in the room. Within seconds after that, as it opened, it creaked in an eerie manner and made the German Lord nearly cringe from how squeaky the hinges were. That's when Vincent was revealed, now wearing a jacket over his elegant mahogany suit with the usual top hat that he always wore whenever he left his mansion. Not only that, but he was humming a tune to himself while skimming his eyes across a page in a book that was titled _Emma. _It must've been a who-done-it novel, considering those were the types of stories that captured the Earl's attention the most and he certainly _was_ engulfed by it. He hadn't even taken his eyes off of the book in order to stare into the room!

"Oh, my, would you look at that?" Vincent muttered to himself as he raised his eyebrows in an interested fashion towards something that he had just read. "Even after suspecting it for awhile now, the writer _still_ managed to describe the scene in such a way that it made the whole moment genuinely feel like a surprise to the audience. Huh ... that's actually quite impressive."

At the sight of the Queen's Guard Dog just standing there in the doorway with his nose buried in a book, the German baron could've sworn that he felt his cheeks beginning to smolder. His face hardened into a serious scowl and he narrowed his eyes into thin slits, making them look sharp enough to be able to cut through anything.

"Phantomhive!" Diedrich barked, pulling a single time at the restraints that were around his ankles to mostly assist in helping him gain the attention of the brown-eyed nobleman. "Now's _not_ the time for book club! Drop the petty novel!"

As soon as he heard the furious sound of his oldest friend's voice, Vincent's eyes grew a little in surprise and he quickly raised his head. He and the German Lord made direct eye contact, resulting in Diedrich crinkling his nose a little and letting out another small growl like a ravenous dog. Vincent's reaction, nonetheless, showed that he had already seen this sort of behavior coming from his stubborn colleague. At first, the Earl continued to stare in slight surprise since he hadn't expected to suddenly hear the blue-eyed aristocrat spat at him like that; but then, an elegant smile that was so ridiculously innocent molded its way across Vincent's lips and a mixture of amusement and interest started to brew together in his pale brown orbs.

"Ah, Dee! I see that you're finally awake!" Vincent noted with a cheerful note in his accent, in which he marked his page in his novel before shutting it.

Diedrich scoffed, choosing to ignore the annoying nickname that the Earl had branded him with ever since their college years. At the same time, he made a few more minor attempts to tug at the metal bonds that were secured around his ankles and wrists.

"Well, damn, Sherlock! It's about time that you noticed!"

Vincent's grin wavered a little and he blinked at the German aristocrat, now appearing to be confused.

"What do you mean?"

"_I mean,_" Diedrich began bitterly, ceasing his tugging in order to focus entirely on Her Majesty's Watchdog again. "I've been hollering your name for the past fifteen minutes and you never came or at least called something back! Are you deaf or something?!"

Upon hearing the blue-eyed gentleman's explanation, Vincent's face flickered with realization and his charming grin curled back up on the corners of his mouth. Then, while letting out a couple of chuckles, the Earl finally stepped into the dim room and made sure to pull the door shut all the way behind him. He wasn't at all bothered by the creepy atmosphere, nonchalantly placing his book down on a nearby shelf before he removed his top hat and positioned it on an abandoned coat rack that was conveniently stationed behind the door.

"No, Diedrich, I am most certainly _not _deaf." Vincent replied, still faintly snickering since he knew that the German baron had only been acting sarcastic while asking that question. "On the contrary, I'm afraid that the _real _reason behind why I couldn't hear anything from you at all is because this room is completely soundproof."

"_Soundproof?!_" Diedrich repeated in disbelief, feeling his eyes expanding a little from not expecting such a reason.

Vincent remained one hundred percent nonchalant, beginning to undo the buttons of his jacket as he explained further. "Yes. I believe that this room was originally built to be used as a bomb shelter or something among those lines, but it's currently being used for other purposes. With that being said, unless that door is opened, nobody can hear a peep from us and we are completely unable to hear anything that's going on outside of this very space."

Diedrich kept studying the walls, as if he was waiting to see if they would sprout lips of their own and confirm everything that the Queen's Guard Dog had just told them. Then, after grimacing in disgust at the sight of a thick cobweb that was hanging in one of the upper corners of the room, the German gentleman rolled his head back over to where the Earl was.

"What in the hell type of place even is this?!" Diedrich asked as he tried yanking at his sturdy bonds again, sounding much more demanding rather than confused. "Where are we?!"

Vincent finished unbuttoning his jacket, slipping it off and joining it with his top hat on the coat rack. Afterwards, while turning back around to face in the direction of his restrained partner in crime, Vincent focused on readjusting the cuffs of his suit.

"We're in one of the secret rooms of the Undertaker's Funeral Parlor, where he keeps all of his mortician tools and builds the coffins for his shop. I must say, judging by this atmosphere, I'm actually quite surprised that you didn't realize that sooner."

He made himself sound a little cheeky as he said that second part, not even bothering to try hiding the small smirk that had appeared on his face.

"You see, Diedrich, shortly after ringing you up a couple of days ago and asking if you would be _so kind_ as to visit London once again, I decided to give a call to Undertaker as well. I was wondering if he would be generous enough to let me use this particular room of his for something. And wouldn't you know it? After explaining the scenario that I had in mind to him, Undertaker confirmed through his usual chuckles that it would be perfectly okay with him and he even gave me the spare keys to the shop since he wasn't going to be here today. I believe that he mentioned something about going to the church to assist in preparations for a funeral."

At the mention of the spare keys, Vincent reached into his pocket, pulled them out, and jingled them like bells for a brief moment in order to show them off. After that, he simply pocketed them again and turned his slight smirk back into one of his flattering grins, as if there was nothing strange whatsoever about any of his actions. Diedrich, on the other hand, tried his hardest to process everything that he was just told. Normally, a task like that would be incredibly easy for him ... but _not_ when he was caught up in also trying to free himself from the cuffs that were secured around his wrists and ankles. His mind was juggling multiple bits and pieces from the Earl's statement, particularly bringing out the parts that involved him mentioning how they were at the Undertaker's Parlor and that he wanted to use _this_ specific room for something that he never necessarily explained.

Eventually, just as Diedrich opened his mouth to demand to know why Vincent had taken him to the eeriest place that he could think of in all of London, he stopped himself when his mind suddenly made him think back to something else. That "something" was the scheme that had resulted in him passing out and being left completely vulnerable in the first place. As soon as that thought returned to the front of the German baron's―still faintly groggy―brain, his face hardened into a furious stare and his eyes looked like they were seconds away from turning into two raging pools of dark blue lava.

"You _bastard!_" Diedrich barked, racking his metal restraints against the edges of the sturdy table some more as his body began to overflow with the strong urge to beat Her Majesty's Watchdog upside the head.

Vincent raised his eyebrows, not seeming to know whether to be more surprised or more entertained by getting called such a name. In all of his years of knowing the German Lord, _this _was the angriest that he had ever seen him. Nonetheless, after a faint pause, Vincent's lips curved upward to form another smile and he began to let out some lighthearted chuckles, as if he was just told a joke. After all, while serving the Queen, he had been referred to in hundreds of unpleasant ways by _plenty_ of people and he'd grown used to it―especially with Diedrich since the two of them went _way _back.

"Oh, dear! It looks like someone is grumpy after taking their nap!" Vincent remarked teasingly. "You know, Dee, it isn't very proper to address another person with a term like that. Especially when they just so happen to be Her Majesty's Guard Dog."

The German gentleman clenched his teeth and growled, feeling the heat on his face beginning to gradually increase as he continued to pointlessly tug at his cuffs. At the same time, he made sure to keep his pointed gaze on the brown-eyed nobleman and he watched as he walked with pure leisure over to the slim table that had all of its contents arranged across it remarkably.

"Stop acting so ballsy right this minute!" Diedrich ordered, mumbling a quick word in German to himself after that since he nearly cringed from detecting the strain that he was causing in his muscles again. "You've got some _major _explaining to ― hey! Are you even listening to me, Phantomhive?!"

"I'm a professional at multitasking, Dee. Of course, I'm listening." Vincent replied with his back facing the other gentleman's direction. "Go on, keep speaking."

Regardless of how the Earl often got called "nosy" by his wife and close friends, he preferred the term "curious." He had just pulled out one of the thick books from between the skull-shaped paperweights, taking the time to examine the cover and flip through a couple of the pages before returning it to its proper spot. Then, he continued the process with the rest of the books, making sure to be very careful with them since the spines were definitely fragile and the pages looked awfully old.

"What in God's name did you do to me?! To that _wine?!_" Diedrich inquired, clearly not in the mood for beating around the bush.

At the mention of the beverage, Vincent closed the book that he'd been holding like a carnivorous plant that was eager to capture its prey and he straightened himself back up. Upon doing that, he glanced over his shoulder and stared directly back at the German aristocrat with that same, mysterious glint from earlier beginning to shimmer in his eyes. Not only that, but his smile had darkened, appearing to be very similar to the devilish grin that he had been wearing shortly after witnessing the blue-eyed nobleman beginning to drink his wine.

"Oh? You mean, it wasn't to your liking?" Vincent asked, still sounding somewhat cheeky.

The German Lord could've sworn that he felt a vein beginning to pop out somewhere in his forehead as he narrowed his eyes even more at the Earl. Then, he proceeded to direct his unamused scowl up towards the unyielding bonds that were around his wrists, followed by him glancing down at the similar ones that were latched around his ankles. Finally, without saying a word, he shot impatient daggers back over in the direction of the Queen's Watchdog, believing that the motions that he made towards his restraints were enough to answer the mocking question.

With a single chuckle, Vincent returned the book that he'd been holding back to its original spot, right before he spun back around on his heels, rested the top of his tailbone back against the edge of the organized table, and crossed his arms over his chest. The entire time, that sly smile that could make any dirty felon tremble never left his porcelain face.

"Like I said earlier, Diedrich, I _did _request for Tanaka to prepare those glasses for us. He brought them to me while I was waiting for your arrival in the Billiards Room and then, after expressing my gratitude and dismissing Tanaka so he could continue on with his other duties, I took matters into my own hands. I ... _added _a little something extra to the sugar that rimmed your glass." Vincent explained, giving a small and nonchalant shrug shortly after his final sentence. "Or, in simpler terms, I guess that you could say that I ... _tampered _with your beverage."

"Tampered...?!" Diedrich repeated the word in bewilderment, feeling his eyeballs expanding to be the size of saucers in their sockets. "You _DRUGGED ME?!_"

Vincent furrowed his brow in phony curiosity and peeked up towards the ceiling, dropping his sinister grin. At the same time, he lifted his hand up to his chin and buzzed his lips, as if he truly needed a moment to think that question through before he was able to give a proper response.

"Hmm ... I wouldn't exactly say that I _'drugged' _you. To be honest, I'm not much of a fan when it comes to that word." Vincent declared, in which he lowered his hand from his face, locked his attention back on the blue-eyed nobleman, and smiled gracefully once again. "I actually prefer the term _'medicated' _instead. In my mind, it sounds far less drastic."

"It doesn't matter _what _you call it, Phantomhive!" Diedrich snapped, perfectly resembling a dragon that was spitting fire as he stared at the Earl like he had just grown a second head. "In the end, you ultimately sat back and watched as I subjected myself to a tainted glass of wine! Don't you even realize how _dangerous_ and not to mention_ stupid_ it is to mix drugs with beverages?! I could've had a seizure or fallen into a coma, for all you know!"

While saying those final two parts in a rather overdramatic fashion, the German baron began pulling as hard as he could against his bonds all over again. He didn't care at all about the unpleasant amount of tension that was gradually beginning to increase within nearly all of his muscles from all of his squirming. He kept hitting the metal restraints against the edges of the ebony table, not wanting to accept that it was impossible for him to escape on his own. The whole time, Diedrich could feel his blood beginning to boil from just the thought of Vincent slipping something into his drink. Even though he already knew that the Queen's Watchdog had done _something _to him, the thought of actually being _drugged _had never crossed the German Lord's mind.

Vincent calmly held his hands up and made a motion for his dear friend to calm down, despite how nobody could actually _hear them _from that room.

"Now, now, Diedrich, there's no need to make such a fuss. I didn't use any severe narcotics, so it would've been virtually impossible for you to react critically to your wine. What I _did _use was nothing more than just a couple of harmless sedatives that I received from Lau upon request and he even guaranteed that the only side effects that would come after being taken are minor headaches and drowsiness. They're not addictive or poisonous whatsoever." Vincent assured, catching a glimpse of Diedrich grinding his teeth a little in discomfort before he turned his back on him again and began to examine plenty of the room's knick-knacks. "Also, I highly suggest that you stop squirming around so much. Those restraints are unbreakable and the only way out of them is by having them unlocked. Fighting against them is pointless and I certainly doubt that you want to risk harming yourself."

The German aristocrat let out an exasperated huff, allowing his head to fall back down against the table as he stopped trying to pull hard enough against the cuffs to get them to snap. The words "unbreakable" and "pointless" seemed to echo in his head, making him stare up at the ceiling like a stubborn child that had just been told that they weren't allowed to get the toy that they wanted.

"I can't believe that this is _actually _happening to me..." Diedrich grumbled to himself, obviously displeased. "So, let me get this straight, Phantomhive..."

Vincent glanced back to let him know that he was listening, right before he went back to studying this antique statuette of a wide-eyed owl that he was now holding.

"You managed to get away with _drugging me ... _and having me _pass out _right inside your manor ... without having _ANY_ of your servants notice?!"

One of the corners of the Earl's mouth twisted into a smug smile. At the same time, while using the tip of his index finger to wipe away some dust from one of the detailed wings of the owl figurine, he released a couple of chuckles that perfectly matched the expression on his face. Although, Diedrich couldn't see it since Vincent still had his back facing in his direction.

"Oh, I can assure you that they most certainly _did _notice, Dee. After all, I had to take it upon myself to support your unconscious form by wrapping your arm around my shoulders while escorting you all the way back out of the mansion. Along the way, I _did _bump into a few of my servants as they were handling their daily routines. Fortunately, I was able to convince each one that you were just a little tired after traveling all the way from Germany and that I believed that some fresh air would work wonders in getting you back on your feet. So, a carriage was prepared and by the time we made it into town, people were completely engulfed in their own business and conversations. It was surprisingly very simple to get us into the Undertaker's Funeral Parlor without drawing any attention ... but even if we _had,_ you probably would've been mistaken as nothing more than a drunk man that needed some assistance."

After clarifying everything, Vincent delicately returned the owl statuette to its correct place. Then, he peered over his shoulder again in order to offer the German Lord one of his teasing grins.

"Even with your cravings for your beloved finger sandwiches, you were actually much easier to move and lift than I thought you would be! You're quite light, as a matter of fact!"

A violent blush of pure embarrassment practically exploded across Diedrich's face like a wildfire at the mention of the finger sandwiches. It wasn't like the mental picture of him being carried around against his will by the Queen's Watchdog of all people helped at all with the humiliation either.

"Y-you just never know when you shut your trap, do you?!" Diedrich snapped with a slight stammer, curling his trapped hands into irritated fists. "I asked you about your servants, _not _about your pointless opinion on my weight! Now, since you seem to be having no difficulties at all with providing answers and explanations for your actions, how about you go ahead and give your reasons behind _WHY_ you're doing this to me in the first place! _Tricking me _into drinking from a glass of wine that was laced with sedatives! Having me fall _unconscious!_ Bringing me all the way to _this_ repulsive place and _restraining me _to a table with _freaking metal cuffs _so I can _barely move! ..._ What in the hell kind of explanation could you _POSSIBLY _have for this barbaric setup, Phantomhive?!"

Vincent exhaled, looking rather entertained as he rested his lower back against the edge of the organized table again.

"Ah, Diedrich ... what is it with you and always wanting to cut right to the chase? You've been like that ever since our days back at Weston. No matter what the circumstance was, you would _always_ demand that we got down to business right then and there before another moment could possibly go to waste. Even after all of these years, you've never changed a bit."

"Well, in case you have forgotten, Phantomhive, my prime responsibilities are stationed in _Germany!_" Diedrich spat with with a bitter roll of his eyes. "With that being said, whenever you request for me to come here to London, I'm expected to get here quickly and finish whatever you needed my presence for even quicker so I can get back to my own duties! _You _might enjoy beating around the bush, but _I_ can't afford risking such a thing! My visits aren't meant to be more than just a couple of days ... and yet, even with there being important business from the Queen, you _actually _took the time to drug me and take me hostage over Christ knows what!"

The Earl raised an eyebrow in even more amusement. "Who said anything about there being important business from Her Majesty?"

As soon as he heard that question, the German baron could've sworn that he felt his heart freeze for a moment in his chest and couldn't tell whether he felt more shocked, angry, or confused.

"_What?!_"

Vincent lightly chuckled, shaking his head a little as he went into more detail. "When I rang you up, I specifically said that I wished to see you as soon as possible. I never said anything about the Queen giving me an assignment. If there was a case that needed to be handled, you would've been the first person that I told―just like usual. I wouldn't have hesitated to let you in on it ... but I'm afraid that this particular visit of yours doesn't involve any sort of mission."

In that moment, Diedrich could definitely tell that he was much more furious. Not only had he dropped all of his own duties back in Germany in order to come at Vincent's beck and call, but as far as he was concerned, with it being confirmed that there was no business related to a new case from the Queen, there was no _actual_ reason for him to be in London at all. He had wasted all of time that he _could've _been using for his own responsibilities just to end up receiving random small talk, followed by him getting drugged and latched down to a table in one of the most unnerving places possible.

"Why, you cheeky, little―!" Diedrich nearly cursed through clenched teeth, glaring ferociously at his long-time friend as he jerked against his metal bonds a couple of more times to no avail. "If there's no _actual _business to attend to, then _WHY _am I here?!"

The Earl's lips twisted into a mischievous grin as he suddenly dropped his attention down to his hands and began to hum a quiet melody to himself. Then, much to the German Lord's confusion, Vincent slipped off both of his rings―the ornate, one-of-a-kind, silver piece with an emerald-cut, deep blue diamond, and the gold signet ring that was created in the form of the Phantomhive crest. Unless bathing or sleeping, Vincent _always _wore those rings since they were family heirlooms that had been passed down for generations. Yet, Diedrich had just witnessed the Queen's Guard Dog remove both of them before placing them delicately into a small glass container that was resting beside all of the mortician tools on the neatly organized table.

Suddenly, Diedrich found himself taking a longer look at all of the scalpels and other pointy appliances that Undertaker must've used on a daily basis. It took a couple of seconds, but his scowl started to waver and he felt an unsettled chill tingle through his bones. Despite how unpredictable the Earl could be, Diedrich couldn't help but begin having to convince himself in his mind that Vincent wouldn't _ever _consider inflicting any harm on him. They had known each other for so long and even though the German nobleman kept telling himself mentally that he was just being paranoid, he couldn't exactly ignore how Vincent had went as far as serving him a "medicated" beverage and restraining him against a table so he was almost entirely immobile. For the first time in all of these years, Diedrich didn't know what to expect from the brown-eyed nobleman; but regardless of how he was slowly starting to grow uneasy, he made sure to maintain his composure as much as he could.

"By any chance, Diedrich," Vincent spoke up again, "do you know what today is?"

The German gentleman furrowed his brow, unable to tell whether his confusion had increased over the random question, or over the fact that he had just seen Her Majesty's Guard Dog remove one of his gloves next.

"It's June fourth. Now, what are you asking me a question like _that _for? What's the date have to do with _any of this?!_"

To put even more emphasis on his final three words, Diedrich rattled his metal restraints in yet another futile attempt to escape from his position on the table.

"As a matter of fact, it has _plenty _to do with this." Vincent answered cheekily, just as he pulled off his other glove and placed them down neatly on top of each other next to the glass container that was holding his rings. "Don't you remember what happened on this particular day many years ago?"

Diedrich scoffed and shook his head to himself in annoyance, right before he stared at the Earl like he was the biggest idiot on the planet. "Phantomhive, I'm not in the mood for guessing games! If you want me to know whatever it is that's _so_ important about this day, just spit it out and tell me already!"

"Ahh, there you go again with wanting to cut right to the chase..."

Vincent breathed out, giving his eyes a slight roll in amusement as he made that comment. Nonetheless, after that, he agreed to not push anymore "guessing games" on the German nobleman and he reached up to grab something that was on one of the slightly higher shelves. Diedrich didn't really get a good look at what it was, but before he could open his mouth to try asking any questions, the Queen's Guard Dog had already approached the table that he was restrained to and held the item up to show it to him. It was a silver, oval-shaped frame that contained a photograph of the German Lord and the Earl during their university years. They were sitting beside each other in fancy chairs, Vincent looking just as easygoing and alluring as always, while Diedrich had his arms crossed and what even looked like a stubborn frown masking his face. Behind them, two other gentlemen stood, one of them looking much more calm and proud than the other.

At first, Diedrich's eyes widened a little; but then, the memories of that very day started rolling back into his mind. He could easily recall the amount of rage that he felt when Vincent and his laid back personality hadn't assisted at all in the preparations for the annual cricket tournament. Diedrich also remembered the deal that the two of them had made―whoever's dormitory won the tournament, the other would have to grant a single wish to the winner. Then, there was the mixture of shock and humiliation that Diedrich could still feel as clear as day whenever he thought about how the Green Lion dormitory had been defeated by Vincent's dormitory, the Sapphire Owl's. Thus, Diedrich had to follow through with the wager ... and in that moment, the realization struck him on why the brown-eyed nobleman had brought up the date.

"On this day, you became my fag!" Vincent stated cheerfully, even wearing a smile that perfectly resembled one that would be on a child's face during Christmas Eve.

"Ah, yes..." Diedrich grumbled, trying not to cringe at the flashbacks as he stared at the framed photo with a bland expression. "I recall those memories far too vividly."

With a few snickers, Vincent turned the picture to look at it for himself. "It's funny how fast time flies, especially while comparing to how it actually feels, don't you agree? It's been years since this photo was taken to commemorate our positions as prefects, yet it feels like we were students at Weston just yesterday. According to Undertaker, humans can change almost entirely within the shortest periods of time ... but even after all of these years, I don't see any changes in you at all, Diedrich. This photo even shows that during our school days, you couldn't seem to wipe that stubborn look off your face."

At first, Diedrich couldn't seem to care less about anything that Vincent was saying about how fast and tricky time was. He just stared up at the ceiling with boredom in his eyes, unable to stop himself from thinking all the way back to the time where he stood before Vincent shortly after the cricket tournament. To this day, the German baron never forgot the satisfied look on Vincent's face, followed by the words, "Become my fag." However, when the Earl made that final teasing comment, the German Lord snapped out of his thoughts and immediately pierced Vincent with a spiteful stare that was accompanied by a slight, fiery tint on his cheeks.

"I-I am _NOT _stubborn! And what did I say before about you shutting your trap?! You _really _need to learn how to do it before you find yourself getting into trouble with the wrong people, all because your tongue can't stop running!" Diedrich barked, shortly before he pretended to clear his throat in order to change the topic. "So, all I've gotten from this little trip down memory lane is that you wanted me to come back here to London on the exact day that marked the anniversary of when I had no choice but to become your fag. However, you _still_ never got to the part that explained to me _WHY!_"

"Lucky for you, Dee, I was _just about _to answer that question. _Why _did I request for you to come all the way back here to the home of Big Ben, only to end up medicating you, bringing you here to the Undertaker's Funeral Parlor, and securing you to a table? ... Well..."

Vincent's eyes flickered with something that was rather cryptic as he stood straight up again so he was no longer leaning against the edge of the ebony table. His brown hues stared directly into the dark blue orbs that belonged to his long-time friend and his face was taken over by a new, sly grin. Then, after noticing some nervousness that was beginning to expose itself in the German aristocrat's eyes, the Earl turned away and walked back over to where he had retrieved the photograph so he could place it back in its previous spot.

"When I was handling some paperwork for the Funtom Company about a week ago, I realized that today―the official anniversary of the very beginning of our everlasting partnership―was coming up and it occurred to me that we've never really done anything to _celebrate_ such a thing. At first, I considered arranging a trip to Germany to surprise you so we could go out for some drinks and reminisce about our university years and whatnot ... but then, an entirely different thought came to my attention."

Vincent stopped speaking after that, deciding to use that opportunity to stir up some more suspense as he crossed his arms behind his back and continued to stare at the old picture. Despite how a majority of the furniture and decorations were decrepit and dusty, that framed photograph looked like it had been remarkably dusted and cleaned on a daily basis. There was even a piece of the Queen's Watchdog that felt flattered by how Undertaker seemed to treasure that particular photo so much to the point where he took such great care of it.

"Which was...?" Diedrich pressed on after a brief moment of reluctance, still managing to sound a little impatient.

Vincent turned back around, shifting almost all of his weight over onto one leg as he lightly swayed his body a little in a nonchalant manner. Although, that mysterious look continued to stand out greatly in his eyes, confirming that he definitely did have something _extra _special for the German Lord up his sleeve.

The Earl's voice was honest, but it also had some subtle slyness slipped into it. "The different thought that occurred to me at that time was that ... in all of our years of working together, Diedrich ... I don't believe that I've _ever _heard you _laugh_ before. Not only that, but I can't seem to recall a time in which you've ever _smiled_ around me either."

For a couple of seconds, the German baron found himself at a loss of words. He stared at the Earl like a dumbfounded child, shortly before he found himself shooting off one of his hard stares again. All of the anticipation that had been building up inside of him practically vanished in the blink of an eye, like the air had been released from a balloon. Now, not only was Diedrich irritated over the fact that he had been scammed into coming all the way back to London, but he was also embarrassed of the prior anxiousness that he'd been feeling just moments before. The most unnerving scenarios had been playing through his head, only to have everything around him practically feel like it froze when Vincent declared such a childish statement.

"_THAT'S _your excuse for putting me through all of this?!" Diedrich bellowed, nearly feeling his blood starting to boil as he clenched his hands into even tighter fists than before. "What in the world kind of childish alibi is _THAT, _Phantomhive?!"

"Now, now, I wouldn't be so quick to jump to the conclusion that it's _childish._" Vincent remarked as he wagged one of his fingers in a wise manner. "After all, it's a _true _observation, no? You really _do _never seem to laugh or smile ... and you know how much I _hate _having to use that word_―never―_to describe something or someone, Dee. Unfortunately, when it comes to_ this,_ I'm afraid that there's no other word that comes to mind. No matter the situation, even when you're expected to pose for a picture like the one that I just showed you from our university days, you _never _stop appearing to be grumpy."

"I do _NOT_―"

However, instead of finishing that protest, the German baron stopped himself when he realized just how childish that made _him _seem. Not only that, but there was even a tiny piece of him that had to admit that the Earl was _right,_ meaning that it would be impossible to try objecting in the first place. With a scoff, Diedrich just rolled his eyes and rolled his head back over so he could be glaring up towards the ceiling again.

Despite coming from a rich and noble family of his own, the German Lord didn't necessarily have the _greatest _childhood. On the contrary, while his mother might as well have been an angel sent from heaven, his father turned out to be an abusive alcoholic that went back and forth from mistreating her to mistreating their only son. Diedrich hadn't even been allowed to go outside and play with other children while growing up, courtesy of how he was almost always covered in bruises, scratches, whip marks, and bandages. Plus, it was against his father's strict rules to associate with ignoble people. With that being said, the blue-eyed gentleman was hardly permitted to socialize until he had the opportunity to leave for Weston University―which his mother told him to take in order to save him from the cruel, improper lifestyle that he had been subjected to for so long. So, expressing happiness or amusement, especially in the form of smiling and laughing, wasn't exactly easy for Diedrich. It was one of the many reasons behind why he had despised the Earl's calm, cheerful personality back in college.

"With that being said..." Vincent continued on, suddenly sounding much more mischievous than before. "...I've decided that I wanted to play a little game with you."

As soon as he heard those words, Diedrich felt his anxiousness return and he slowly turned his head back in the direction of the brown-eyed gentleman. Although, regardless of how his eyes exposed just how nervous he actually was, he tried to cover it up by furrowing his brow in confusion.

"What are you talking about? What kind of game?"

Vincent raised his eyebrows and flashed a bright smile, which only made the scenario feel even more unsettling. Then, without responding, he suddenly approached the table again and his pale brown hues sparkled devilishly as they stared into the dark blue ones of his long-time friend. Silence continued for a couple of more seconds before the Queen's Watchdog finally answered the German baron's question, exposing some of his teeth by broadening his grin in the process.

"I'm glad that you asked."

After that, Vincent did something that was highly unexpected. He lifted his bare hands up and, after making brief eye contact again with Diedrich, began to casually undo the olive-colored buttons of the blue-eyed nobleman's traditional German military jacket. With no hesitation, Diedrich's eyes grew to be the size of boulders and he felt a brand new, much more intense wave of heat sweep across his face. He couldn't tell whether he felt more enraged or more bewildered, but that didn't stop him from immediately beginning to try yanking at his metal restraints all over again. Not only that, but he began trying to toss his body from side to side in an attempt to get Her Majesty's Guard Dog to stop fiddling around with his clothes. However, almost every time that the German aristocrat tried to jerk his body away from Vincent, he felt the Earl simply hold him still with one hand while continuing to unbutton his jacket with the other. Plus, the bonds around his wrists and ankles already prevented him from being able to move hardly at all.

"W-what in the hell do you think you're doing, Phantomhive?!" Diedrich nearly yelled, continuing to squirm around as roughly as possible. He looked furious, yet sounded utterly baffled. "U-unhand me right this minute, you pervert!"

Vincent chuckled faintly, remaining calm and perfectly nonchalant. "I may be a lot of things, Diedrich, but a 'pervert' isn't one of them. I would _never _dream of doing anything perverse or lewd to you, nor anybody else for that matter. I have a wife, after all. Now, if you would please be so kind as to _stop_ fidgeting around so much, that would be magnificent. I wouldn't want to risk accidentally ripping your beloved military suit."

The German Lord let out a growl, detecting the amusement that was noticeable in the Earl's voice―particularly when saying his first and final two sentences. Shortly after that, Vincent finished undoing the final button and he pushed both sides of Diedrich's jacket aside. Then, the Queen's Watchdog decided to carry on with the next part of his plan. He pinched the bottom hem of the blue-eyed aristocrat's undershirt and lifted it up to expose the upper half of Diedrich's slim, athletic figure. His skin was as pale as a white lily, accompanied by a couple of small beauty marks, some robust muscles, and the vague outlines of his ribs.

Diedrich sucked his stomach in out of reflex, feeling the draft in the room caress his skin and almost instantly send goosebumps across it. His face, on the other hand, continued feeling hotter than a flame from the deepest part of hell.

"Ah, there we go!" Vincent declared chirpily, folding his hands beneath his chin while resting his elbows against the edge of the ebony table. "My, oh my! It looks like you've been working out, Dee!"

"S-shut it!" Diedrich barked with his accent dripping in a blend of anger and embarrassment. "I-I swear, with God as my witness, Phantomhive, you better _not _be thinking of undressing me any further!"

With a single chuckle, the Earl raised his hands up to his shoulders, as if he were surrendering. "No need to worry, I can assure you that there will be no more garments being removed. I just needed to fiddle around with your jacket and shirt in order to prevent them from being a hindrance to our little game."

"And what kind of so-called _game_ would have requirements like _this?!_"

While emphasizing that final word, the German baron rattled his metal cuffs against the edges of the table and then looked down at his bare stomach, obviously referring to those two particular steps in the brown-eyed nobleman's scheme.

"Well, it technically has no requirements at all." Vincent remarked, in which he straightened himself back up and rested his head in his hand with a casual grin on his face. "I just took it upon myself to take these precautions because I know for a fact that if I didn't, you wouldn't have agreed to participate in this game in the first place ... and that would've been highly inconvenient since I'm determined to get you to smile and laugh before this day comes to an end."

Diedrich furrowed his brow a little in confusion, beginning to question every last detail in the entire scenario. However, just as he was about to open his mouth to speak again, the German nobleman ended up sucking in a sharp breath instead. He had felt the Queen's Guard Dog simply poke him just below his left set of ribs, completely out of nowhere.

"Do tell, Diedrich..." Vincent went on, suddenly wearing a smile that was much more mischievous. "Is it at all a possibility that you're ... ticklish?"

As soon as the Earl finished that question, Diedrich could've sworn that he felt all of the color rush out of of his skin and he thought that his heart had almost froze completely in his chest. For the briefest moment, everything around him felt like it had stopped and his face was taken over by a dumbfounded expression.

"W-what kind of barbaric question is_ that?!_" Diedrich demanded, struggling a little more against his restraints in the most subtle manner that he possibly could. However, it didn't take much effort to see the nervousness beginning to show itself more and more in his eyes with every passing second.

"It's not barbaric at all. On the contrary, it's actually very simple." Vincent rebuked. He lifted his eyebrows and, being the observant person that he was, easily noticed how fidgety and anxious his long-time friend had suddenly got. "Now, how about you give me an actual answer? ... Are. You. Ticklish?"

While emphasizing those final three words, the Earl used his index finger to teasingly jab the German baron in three of his small, round beauty marks that perfectly resembled freckles. In return, Diedrich bit down on his bottom lip and did his best to stop a mild yelp from escaping from his throat. He muffled it as much as he could inside of him, trying to ignore the sensation that those dreaded pokes sent throughout his vulnerable body. However, muffling the noise only resulted in it coming out in the form of a faintly desperate, "Hmpth!"

Vincent was smirking in a way that would make even a demon become uncomfortable. He continued resting his head in one hand and leaned his body against the edge of the ebony table once again, using his other hand to continue applying small pokes along one of Diedrich's sides. Also, despite the sinister expression that was completely covering the Earl's face, there was some excitement mixed into his chocolate-colored eyes as well.

"Hmmm..." Vincent hummed, prolonging the beginning stage of teasing for as long as he could. "Perhaps, Diedrich, while_ you_ take the time to ponder your response ... _I_ can enjoy myself with a small round of Connect the Dots~! How does that sound?"

Diedrich's eyes automatically became the size of saucers. "P-Phantomhive! Don't you da―!"

"There's one right there~ And another right over here~"

The Queen's Guard Dog slowly dragged the tip of his finger all the way from one of the beauty marks near the bottom of the German nobleman's ribs, all the way to another small blemish that was near his hip. Almost immediately, Diedrich's stomach started to flutter and he felt practically each of his muscles begin to tighten beneath his skin. At the same time, he clenched his eyes shut and bit down even harder on his bottom lip, surprisingly not drawing any blood. He also could've sworn that he felt the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch a little ... but pigs would have to sprout wings and begin to fly before the blue-eyed gentleman allowed himself to give in to such childish antics.

"My, my~!" Vincent said as he continued to create random shapes along his dear friend's abdomen with his finger. "I never thought that you would have_ this_ many beauty marks, Dee~! So many shapes can be made between them~!"

Diedrich started twisting his hands and feet in his restraints yet again, trying not to be too obvious as he kept his lower lip firmly held between his teeth. At the same time, he rolled his head from left to right against the table a couple of times before he stopped to shoot the Earl the most fatal look that he could possibly pull off in that situation.

"_E-ENOUGH!_" Diedrich hollered as loudly as he could while still maintaining his typical seriousness without giving in to what the other nobleman wanted. "Phantomhive, _stop _these absurd antics right this second! You're acting even _more _ridiculous than usual! But if you're really _that _persistent to get an answer to such a _preposterous_ question, then_ no! _I am most certainly _NOT _ticklish!"

Vincent tilted his head a little, obviously not convinced. "Oh? Well, if that's _truly _the case ... then I guess that it won't be any trouble for me to _test out_ this little theory of mine!"

The German baron could've sworn that he felt his heart drop all the way down to his toes as soon as he heard that. Just the _thought_ of him getting tickled made his blood feel colder than ice. Truth be told, he was actually _very _ticklish and he only knew such a thing about himself because when he was a child, there were rare moments in which he was able to have _actual _fun by engaging in games with his mother―mainly when his father was out at a bar or passed out in a drunken sleep. Whether it was Hide and Seek, Ring Around the Rosie, or London Bridges, a tickle fight almost always found a way to break out and Diedrich was able to feel like an _actual _kid. However, that was many years ago and now, as a full grown man, the German aristocrat absolutely _dreaded _the thought of the Earl exploiting his ticklishness for his own fun and games.

"Huh?!" Diedrich nearly gasped, hoping to death that he hadn't heard Vincent correctly.

"Like I said before, Dee, it's my goal to get you to smile and laugh once and for all! With that, I've decided to dedicate this entire afternoon to this _special _game ... where I'll be tickling you as much as I want! Of course, since you said that you _aren't _ticklish, then none of this should be a problem for you to handle." Vincent declared with his lips still molded into a smirk. Then, he raised one of his hands, hovered it just above the blue-eyed gentleman's stomach, and wiggled his fingers menacingly. "This is going to be plenty of fun, I can already tell!"

The German gentleman made a fruitless attempt to flinch his stomach away. "Wait, stop! Phantomhive, don't!"

"Oh?" Her Majesty's Guard Dog stopped moving his fingers and looked down at his long-time friend with staged innocence. "Is something the matter, Diedrich? Do we have an issue after all?"

It was evident that he was giving the other gentleman a chance to change his answer on whether or not he actually _was_ ticklish. However, Vincent knew Diedrich like the back of his own hand. Hell would have to freeze over before he would _ever _admit anything―especially something like _this._

"I _hate _getting touched and you know it!" Diedrich barked as he felt himself already starting to break out into a slight, anxious sweat.

"Ah, so _that's _the issue that you're concerned about?" Vincent inquired, shortly before he transformed his diabolical grin back into one of his charming ones. "Well, there's no need to worry. I'll be gentle. I practice games like this on my sons whenever I find the time and they always end up having a splendid time! With that being said, just relax and enjoy yourself! Now, let's see here..."

The German aristocrat opened his mouth to attempt another protest. However, before he could get a word out, he ended up sucking in another sharp breath and he didn't think twice before, once again, snatching his bottom lip between his teeth when he felt the Earl place his hands against his stomach and begin to move them around. One hand roamed all over, delicately stroking his vulnerable skin, while the other hand stayed in the center of his abdomen and gently squeezed at the flesh that was there. His muscles kept twitching helplessly beneath Vincent's long fingers, despite how hard Diedrich was trying to remain as still as possible in order to make it seem like he wasn't being bothered at all by the ticklish sensations that were already beginning to bubble through his body.

"Oh, wow, Dee~!" Vincent chimed in surprise. "What soft skin you have~! It's so smooth, like the finest silk~!"

"A-and your hands a-are sweatier than two p-pigs in the summer sun!" Diedrich hissed as sternly as he could through slight stutters. "I-it's revolting!"

Almost immediately after those words left his mouth, the German colleague regretted even thinking about saying them. In return, the Queen's Watchdog narrowed his eyes a little and, with a sneaky smile molded across his lips, he purposely dug his fingers a little more into his long-time friend's stomach. Diedrich nearly jumped against the ebony table at the sensation, curling his toes in his boots as he automatically attempted to pull at his restraints in order to protect himself. Of course, however, that was impossible.

"Is that so?" Vincent asked, knowing that his hands weren't as sweaty as the German nobleman was making them sound. "My apologies, but I didn't want to risk having my gloves get in the way of our fun."

Diedrich kept his bottom lip as firmly between his teeth as possible, dragging it back and forth. Meanwhile, as Vincent continued to paw and lightly scratch in random patterns all over his abdomen, Diedrich could also feel small, helpless, puppy-like whimpers beginning to form in his chest. He fought against each one as much as he could, refusing to release them as he kept trying to remain as still as a statue. However, in the process, his stomach started to quiver in a manner that almost perfectly resembled the pattern of ripples in water, giving it away that he was clearly being affected by the Earl's little game. Not only that, but the German aristocrat could feel his cheeks gradually starting to become sore from him trying not to smile and giggles―actual _giggles―_were bubbling up inside of him.

"Oooh~! Is that a _smile _that I see trying to form there, Diedrich? I think it is!" Vincent declared in a teasing, somewhat overdramatic tone. "Are the rumors true? Does my dear German pup _actually_ know how to smile?"

"I-I swear, P-Phantomhive, i-if you don't s-shut u-up―!" Diedrich tried his best to sound threatening, but in that moment, he couldn't manage to do so. He was almost having to choke his words out, stammering much more noticeably since he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping his laughter held in.

"Ah, ah, ah~" The Queen's Watchdog applied more pressure to the German nobleman's helpless stomach again, smirking in amusement. "Do you_ really_ believe that threatening me at this particular time is a good idea? After all, you're _completely_ defenseless and at my utter mercy right now~! I suggest proceeding with caution from here on out!"

Diedrich's face burned in humiliation as he felt his composure continuing to slowly deteriorate with every passing, torturous second. Not only that, but he could also feel the edges of his lips beginning tremble much more visibly, desperate to curl into a powerless grin. As much as he despised admitting it, Diedrich knew that Vincent was right. He was totally vulnerable, unable to protect himself from the brown-eyed aristocrat's cheeky scheme, and escaping from those metal bonds weren't an option. At least when he was a child, Diedrich's mother wouldn't restrain him and she knew his limits ... but Vincent? Despite how cheerful and serene he was on a daily basis, the Earl still had his mischievous moments. With that being said, the German colleague knew that he was in deep, _deep _trouble.

"Hmmm..." Vincent hummed, clearly enjoying himself as he observed the shifts in his helpless friend's behavior. "Are you _sure _that you're not ticklish, Dee?"

"I-I'm _p-positive!_" Diedrich replied in the most convincing voice that he could possibly pull off. However, within seconds after that, he just so happened to inhale another sharp breath and, while feeling the pain in his reddening cheeks growing stronger, the German baron jumped a little against the table when he felt the Earl squeeze the area of his abdomen that was just above his navel.

Vincent remained silent for a moment, truly feeling utter delight beginning to spark inside of him at the sight of the tight grin that was slowly beginning to expose itself more and more across his oldest friend's face. Not only that, but Her Majesty's Guard Dog even felt a little surprised from also noticing slight dimples in the other gentleman's cheeks. In all of their years of knowing each other, Vincent _never _imagined that _Diedrich_ of all people would possess such a pleasant smile that was accompanied by faint _dimples._ In fact, the Earl couldn't conclude whether he thought that such a thing about the German nobleman was more adorable, more ironic, or more entertaining.

Eventually, while spiraling the fingers of one hand underneath one set of Diedrich's ribs and using his other hand to randomly squeeze underneath the opposite set of ribs, Vincent snickered.

"You know, lying is a _very _nasty habit to get involved with~"

"W-w-what?!" Diedrich shook his head in a manner that was obviously desperate, despite how it was also clear that he still wasn't trying to seem that way. "I-I'm _not―!_"

"Who do you think you're trying to fool, Diedrich?" Vincent cut his best friend off, wearing a grin that was just as wicked as the shimmer in his eyes. "Not only have the two of us known each other for _so long, _but I'm the Queen's Watchdog! It's a piece of cake for me to be able to detect lies, especially when they're coming from ones like _you. _Now, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm afraid that by holding yourself back like this, you're only making this whole event harder on yourself! You might as well do us both a favor and just give in already~!"

The German Lord clenched his teeth so hard to the point where it was a miracle that they weren't shattering. At the same time, as his chest rose and fell with somewhat quivering breaths, his unprotected stomach kept making anxious attempts to escape from the Earl's nimble fingers. However, no matter how many times Diedrich sucked his stomach in or attempted to shift his body away from the tickles, Vincent's fingers simply followed and he was almost entirely immobile. Out of all of the situations that the blue-eyed baron had come across in his life, he _seriously _couldn't believe that _this _was one of them.

"Come on~" Vincent sang in a much more playful tone as he danced his nails like spiders up and down the direct center of his friend's twitching abdomen. "You know that you want to laugh~ Come on, Dee, let it all out~"

With every passing second, Diedrich could feel his dignity deteriorating further and further. He _certainly _didn't want to give Vincent the satisfaction of reducing him to vulnerable laughter, especially after he had already managed to get him _trapped _in that predicament in the first place. However, the German aristocrat couldn't ignore the fact that he had already lost the battle in preventing a smile from breaking out across his quivering lips ... and what happened next only caused him to want to strike himself upside the head. After being suppressed for what felt like an eternity, a _giggle_ had slipped out of Diedrich's mouth. It was soon followed by another ... and another ... and, just like that, it was like a dam had been broken.

"Ahahahaha! Dahahahammit! Nohoho!" Diedrich exclaimed, and despite how surprisingly joyful his voice sounded, anyone who knew him well enough would be able to tell that he was in the middle of cursing like a sailor in his head. "Knohohohck ihihit ohohOHOHF! GHAHAHA!"

Vincent's eyes widened a little in surprise, glowing brighter than shooting stars as his devilish grin melted into more of a silly one. He couldn't believe how _cheery_ and _youthful _Diedrich's laughter was, rising and falling to different octaves depending entirely on which parts of his stomach were being tortured. It was literally music to the Earl's ears, going along perfectly with the amusing sight of the blue-eyed Lord trying to fight against his restraints once again.

"My goodness! It appears that your laughter is even_ more _precious than I thought it would be, Diedrich! It's as carefree as a child's and as addictive as a drug!" Vincent commented while continuing to scamper his fingertips all over the other nobleman's stomach. "I must say, it is _incredibly_ refreshing to see you finally agreeing to let loose for a change~! Perhaps, you should consider advertising this sort of behavior more often instead of deciding to look so gloomy and angry all the time!"

"IHIHIHI DOHOHO NOHOHOHOT!" Diedrich protested through his laughter, only raising his voice that time out of anger towards Vincent's final comment. "Ahahahaha! PhahahantOMHIVE! S-STOHOHP thihihis fhohohOOLINESS! GHAHAHA! _N-NOW!_"

Eventually, after a couple of more seconds that went by feeling like years for the squirming German, the Earl complied by slowing his fingers down before completely withdrawing them. Diedrich didn't think twice before drawing in a deep breath and letting it out in the form of a relieved sigh. He ceased his struggling, almost entirely oblivious to the strain that had been building up in his muscles by this point since he was more focused on how he could still faintly feel the sensation of Vincent's cheeky fingers lingering across his vulnerable flesh. Not only that, but the German Lord could also feel his face burning hotter than an oven in a mixture of shame and humiliation. Much to his dismay, he had given into Vincent's childish antics.

Vincent flashed a triumphant smirk and positioned his elbow against the edge of the table. Then, as he rested his head in his hand, he said, "So ... _'not ticklish,'_ eh?"

"Grrrr...!" Diedrich sneered, clutching his jaws. Shortly after that, he turned his head back over in the direction of the Queen's Guard Dog and, as if he had never been smiling or laughing, pierced him with the deadliest scowl that he could manage.

"Oh, dear!" Vincent said in a obnoxiously kind and teasing voice. "Back to glaring so soon?"

Diedrich narrowed his eyes sharply, practically seething through his panting. "Damn you and your smartass attitude, Phantomhive! _How dare you_ subject me to such _outrageous_ actions against my own will!"

The Earl retorted wisely, "Since when did it become 'outrageous' for one friend to want to make the other friend smile and laugh for a change?"

The German baron nearly scoffed, surprisingly not having any of his veins popping out. "Need I remind you that you _drugged me _and had me _strapped down _to a table so I couldn't fight back?! This _whole damn thing_ is outrageous!"

"I'm afraid that that's a mater of opinion." Vincent revoked, still smirking as he raised his shoulders in a small shrug.

"Ugh! Does it _look like_ I care?!" Diedrich demanded as used his venomous stare to, once again, gesture to his restraints and to remind the brown-eyed gentleman that this wasn't the time for him to focus on such pointless statements. "You've had your ridiculous fun, Phantomhive! Let me out of these freakin' cuffs _right now _and, if you're lucky, there's the _tiniest_ sliver of a possibility that I'll _maybe _let you try running away before I take the time to knock out any of the _actual_ sense that there is inside of your head!"

For a brief moment that felt much longer than what it actually was, silence filled the musty room and Vincent stared at his long-time friend like he had just witnessed him attempt to walk through a wall. The Earl, being the ballsy person that he was, had even went as far to stage a specific look in his eyes that made it seem like he was _actually _considering to comply with the German nobleman's orders. However, after the faint pause carried on for about seven seconds, Vincent decided to break character by allowing himself to breaking out into a wide grin. Then, he let out a couple of chuckles that sooner escalated into him tossing his head back and releasing more audible laughter―as if somebody had just told a very good joke.

Diedrich faltered, gaping in bewilderment at the Queen's Watchdog. Then, as he made a few more futile attempts to somehow escape from his relentless restraints, he exclaimed in a tone that remained stubborn, "W-what's so funny?!"

"Oh, Diedrich..." Vincent said, finishing up his abrupt outburst of laughter before he stared directly into the other nobleman's dark blue orbs with a new, playful smirk twisted across his lips. "You didn't _actually _think that I went through _all _of the preparations for this little game to simply let you go after doing just _that, _did you?"

The German aristocrat's eyes widened a little after he heard that and he almost found himself at a loss for words. "What are you talking about, Phantomhive?! You literally said that it was your goal, for God knows what reason, to get me to smile and laugh! And you just got done doing _just that!_"

"Yes, you are correct about that, Diedrich." Vincent confirmed with a couple of nods. "_However ... _I _also _said that this game consists of me being able to tickle you _as much as I want! _What I did to your stomach just now was nothing more than a little experiment to test whether or not you were _actually_ ticklish. Or, if you would rather perceive it as something else, it was simply a playful preview of what's to come."

Again, Diedrich almost found himself rendered speechless. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, evidently trying to find something else to say. At the same time, the scowl on his face began to falter and a new look of pure nervousness started to appear right before the Earl's eyes.

"J-just what in the hell gives you the right to do this?!" Diedrich eventually managed to spat out, still maintaining some of the stubbornness in his tone. "After _everything_ that I do for you, _this _is how you repay me?!"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Dee. I appreciate you and our teamwork greatly." Vincent remarked as he continued to smirk. "That's actually one of the reasons behind _why_ I'm doing this. This whole thing is simply nothing more than just a harmless prank that's being done to celebrate the two of us becoming everlasting partners in crime!"

"Grrrr!" The German nobleman growled for a second time, this time with much more malice, and tried to flop around as much as he could against the ebony table while roughly rattling his bonds around. "This is _not _a prank! This is freakin' _kidnapping! _Are you _insane?!_"

The brown-eyed nobleman chuckled humorously. "Actually, I'm far more disappointed in how I didn't come up with this plan sooner. It would've made our final years in university and not to mention the following decades of our partnership _far more _interesting. Luckily, we currently have all of the time in the world and I'm planning to make up for a majority of that lost time right here, right now! Starting off with this _adorable _stomach~!"

"It's _NOT _adhohohorable!"

Diedrich gritted his teeth, unable to prevent a new grin from spreading widely across his face as he felt Vincent beginning to skitter his nails all over his vulnerable stomach again. At the same time, as his sensitive flesh went on to make even more pointless attempts to twitch away, the German Lord couldn't stop his laughter from beginning to flow out of his mouth like a waterfall again.

"Hahahahaha! DHAHAHAHAMN YOU!"

"Awww~ Somebody has a sensitive tummy~" Vincent declared in a patronizingly sweet voice. He roamed his hands all over the warm skin of his oldest friend's quivering stomach, spiraling his fingertips in a bunch of random patterns. "Tickle, tickle, tickle~"

"NAHAHAHA!" Diedrich shook his head wildly, feeling his entire abdomen fluttering in laughter as he tried his hardest to sound demanding. "Stohohohop tahahalking lihihike thahahat!"

Her Majesty's Guard Dog chuckled with genuine enjoyment visible in his eyes. He knew _exactly_ what it was like to be up to his knees in responsibilities, particularly with his family and the Funtom business, but that didn't mean that he agreed with how the German aristocrat was allowing his own busy life to take control of him to the point where he hardly laughed or smiled at anything. Even if it was just for a couple of minutes or so, Vincent wanted to change that.

"Now, why would you want me to do that?" Vincent asked cheekily. He pressed his fingers in a little more near the sides of the blue-eyed gentleman's abdomen, wiggling them more and watching in satisfaction as Diedrich let out another addictive, uncharacteristic squeal. "Is it possible that speaking to you in a tone like that only makes the tickling _worse? _Because, if that's the case ... that's the whole point! Cootchie, cootchie, coo~!"

Diedrich tossed his head back and continued to helplessly shriek against his will, feeling the sweat around his hairline gradually increasing and becoming hotter. He could also feel Vincent lightly scraping his fingers over every last inch of his stomach and flanks, making sure to include the areas that were directly below his ribs and right above his waistline. The Earl's fingernails were _torturous, _having a vague resemblance to feathers against the German baron's skin while also being _indescribably _worse.

"What do you think of my nails?" Vincent suddenly asked, as if he had been reading the mind of his captive friend. "I've been meaning to get them cut lately, especially since Rachel seemed to notice how long they were getting before I even had the time to pay enough attention to them. However, with this _special _occasion on my mind for the past week, I decided to postpone a trimming for reasons that I'm sure are quite obvious to you by now~ Tickle, tickle, Dee~!"

"AhahaHAHA! DHAHAHAMMIT! IhiHIHI HAHATE yohoHOHOU!" Diedrich exclaimed as loudly as he could through his laughter.

After hearing that, Vincent rolled his eyes and let out a scoff that was clearly overdramatic. Shortly afterwards, he said, "Oh, do you now?"

"HEHEHELL YHEHEHES!"

"Well, we can't have that now, can we?"

The Earl's lips stretched into an unsettling grin and his chocolate-colored eyes lit up with a cryptic glow, making it even more obvious that he wasn't offended at all by any of his best friend's outbursts. Shortly after that, he began to slow his fingers down, taking his sweet time to glide them all around the German Lord's abdomen some more like they were ice skating. After that, the Earl began to withdraw his fingers one at a time, listening to the German Lord slowly being reduced childish giggles. He kept doing that until he was down to one final finger, which was being dragged around in a large circle that was gradually becoming smaller with every complete circle that it made around Diedrich's quivering stomach.

"H-hehey! Whahat a-are yohohoho dohohoing?!" Diedrich inquired as sternly as possible, still giggling.

He lifted his head up, paying no mind to how messy his forelocks had gotten, and he could feel his stomach continuing to incapably twitch. As soon as he saw where the brown-eyed nobleman's finger was heading, the German aristocrat could've sworn that he felt his heart punch him so roughly in the chest to the point where it was a miracle that its outline hadn't been able to be seen through his skin. At the same time, Diedrich felt his eyes grow to become the size of cricket balls and he nearly choked on a sharp breath of anticipation.

"P-Phahahantomhihive!" Diedrich exclaimed in a voice that was a little high-pitched, due to Vincent's finger getting closer to its destination―his bellybutton. "D-dohohon't eheheven thihink―!"

The blue-eyed gentleman couldn't even get himself to finish what he was trying to say, courtesy of how his urge to laugh much heavier began to make a patronizing return. His chest began to rise and fall a little quicker as he started trying to focus more on his breathing than anything. However, he still couldn't stop himself from giggling like a little schoolboy and he was grinning so widely to the point where his cheeks were already starting to hurt. In Diedrich's eyes, it was absolutely degrading and humiliating; but Vincent remained completely amused and was still planning to enjoy every last second of this little prank of his.

"Round and round the garden~" Vincent sang, still flashing a mischievous smile as he began to trace the rim of Diedrich's navel with the very tip of his nail. He made sure to mix the patterns up unexpectedly, stroking clockwise at a quicker speed before stroking counterclockwise at a much slower speed. "Hopped the little bunny~ With a one hop and a two hops~ ... And a tickle on your tummy~!"

At the end of the nursery rhyme, the Queen's Guard Dog finally decided to cease the anticipation and he dipped his finger as far down into the German gentleman's shallow navel as it could go. He wriggled it around like a worm on a hook and used the tip of his nail to lightly scrape the tender knot of flesh that was at the very bottom of the small hole. For the tiniest second, Diedrich's whole body seemed to freeze ... but then, much to his dismay, he ended up throwing his head back once again and bursting out into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. At the same time, Diedrich ended up arching his back out of reflex; but he immediately regretted it and quickly slammed his slim figure back down against the ebony table when he felt Vincent's finger only get pushed even further down into his vulnerable bellybutton.

The smile that appeared on Vincent's face perfectly resembled one that a child would wear as soon as they entered a candy store.

"Oh, wow, Diedrich! Did I just find a sweet spot~? I _did,_ didn't I~?" Vincent chuckled, wanting to taunt the German aristocrat as much as he would while continuing to swirl his finger all around inside of the helpless navel. "Kitchy, kitchy~! Aww, what a cute, little, ticklish bellybutton that you have, Dee! I never knew that something _so_ small could be _so_ sensitive at the same time~! You really _do _learn something new everyday!"

"AHAHAHAHAHA!" Diedrich continued to wail like tomorrow didn't exist, racking his cuffs even more against the edges of the table as he tried his hardest to do whatever it took to get the brown-eyed gentleman's finger out of his bellybutton. "STOP, STOP, STOHOHOHOP! PHAHAHAHANTOMHIHIVE! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE! GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT! HAHAHAHA!"

The Earl ignored his pleads and protests, knowing that his wide grin and cheeky snickers were enough to make it perfectly clear that he was definitely entertained by how fast the blue-eyed nobleman was trying to speak through his laughter. Then, after about another five seconds, Vincent decided to add a second finger to Diedrich's navel, wiggling them around in unison as he also began to roam his other hand all over his stomach again. Meanwhile, the German aristocrat kept trying to yank at his unbreakable restraints while shrieking like he had just inhaled a full tank of laughing gas.

Eventually, after an additional fifteen seconds that felt like a whole fifteen years to Diedrich, Vincent switched back to just using one finger on his bellybutton and he began to gradually decrease the speed of his other dancing fingers.

"Okay, Diedrich ... in order to prevent you from becoming lightheaded and passing out, I'll be permitting you to have brief periods to regain your breath all throughout this little game. This is your first breather." Vincent remarked, taking the opportunity to lightly trace the rim of his best friend's navel a couple of more times before he finally stopped and went back to resting his head against his hand. "In the meantime, I would like to discuss a deal with you."

At the perky note in the Watchdog's accent, the panting German rolled his head back over in his direction. Then, while trying to ignore the phantom tickles that were still lingering across the flesh of his abdomen, Diedrich did his best to pierce Vincent with a glare. Despite how he was caught up in recharging his lungs and trying to maintain whatever was left of his pride, the look in Diedrich's eyes was sharp enough to be able to cut straight through glass.

Through his breathing, the German Lord bitterly said, "W ... what in _the hell_ a ... are you talking about?!"

"Well, I'm quite certain that by this point, it's an obvious fact to both of us that you truly _are_ indeed rather ... _sensitive._"

While saying that final word, the Queen's Guard Dog placed three quick pokes against the area of his friend's abdomen that was directly above his navel. The German nobleman almost immediately let out as "Mmpth!" sound, in which he sucked his lips into his mouth, held his stomach in as much as he could, and forced himself to hold back on the urge to smile. Not long afterwards, Vincent chuckled and Diedrich glared at him once again, still feeling his face burning in a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"With that being said, I believe that this is the best time for us to discuss a deal." Vincent went on, making eye contact with his oldest colleague. "Tell me the spot where you're most ticklish ... and I'll be sure to save it for last."

Diedrich almost grimaced at just the thought of having his most ticklish spot targeted, literally feeling a chill run through his bones. Although, after a faint pause, he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Do you _really _think that I would believe that you would keep your word about something like _that, _Phantomhive?! How dumb do you think I am?!"

One of Vincent's smug smirks made a return, making it clear that he had already been expecting that sort of response from his long-time friend. At the same time, he took a couple of seconds to hold his hands up to his shoulders in a mock surrender type of fashion.

"Settle down, Diedrich. I never said that I thought that you were dumb. If you don't wish to take this deal, then that's entirely up to you. I won't force you into it ... but I must let you know beforehand, I _am_ going to locate your most ticklish spot sooner or later. If I just so happen to find it before the end of this game even nears, then I'm afraid that you'll be receiving even _more _torment."

There was another brief moment of silence, in which the two gentlemen just stared at each other. Diedrich's eyes had widened a little after he had listened to Vincent's final sentence, but he refused to allow his anxiousness to expose itself entirely on his face. He couldn't exactly tell whether the Earl was giving him the chance to change his mind over his decision on the deal or not, but it didn't matter. As the blue-eyed aristocrat refused to back down on giving away his most sensitive spot, he noticed that the Watchdog was beginning to scan his eyes over other parts of his body―obviously getting ready to continue the prank.

"You can't say that I didn't warn you, Dee." Vincent suddenly said with a somewhat ominous glint in his eyes. "Now ... it looks to me like you've regained your energy. I'm sure that you know what that means, no? It's time for us to move on!"

Diedrich nearly became as stiff as a statue against the table after he heard that, looking noticeably uneasy by that point. Then, while swallowing down a couple of extra shallow breaths, he tilted his head back in order to rest his eyes on the metal cuffs that were still secured firmly around his wrists. Again, he tried to pull at them, racking them against the top edge of the table a numerous amount of times in yet another attempt to regain his freedom. Nonetheless, he _still _couldn't and, with his anticipation beginning to heighten inside of him again, he redirected his attention back over to the Earl.

Vincent raised his hand up to his chin, still glancing over Diedrich's body. Eventually, after what felt like a century, his eyes flickered with deviousness and the smirk on his face broadened.

"Hmm..." Vincent hummed, shortly before he reached both of his hands up towards his friend's chest, hovered them directly above his ribs, and wiggled his fingers tauntingly. "What about here, Dee? Are your ribs more sensitive than your stomach and possibly even your navel?"

The German nobleman almost found himself letting out a sound that could only be described as a whimper; but he managed to catch it in his throat and submerge it inside of him before it could escape. At the same time, he felt another anxious wave of goosebumps vibrate across his exposed skin and he began trying to squirm around as much as he could once again in order to avoid the Watchdog's sneaky fingers.

"Christ, _no-hohohoho!_"

Unable to help himself, Diedrich almost immediately broke out into another fit of giggles when he felt Vincent rest all ten of his fingers against the bones of his lower ribs. Then, with no hesitation, the Earl began to slowly and delicately stroke the the tender outlines with the very tips of his nails. This time, the German baron's giggles were much more airy and carefree, perfectly resembling the laughter that would come from a small child that was getting chased during a game of Tag.

"_No _as in, you're answering my question? Or _no, _you're trying to object to me continuing our little game?" Vincent inquired, still wearing a large smirk.

"_Nohohohohoho! _No-hohohoho!" Diedrich shook his head quickly, unable to commit himself to forming a complete sentence while giggling up a storm.

The Earl chuckled and began to lightly spiral his fingertips, continuing to dance them back and forth across the bones of the German gentleman's lower ribs. His touch was so gentle to the point where Diedrich could've sworn that he was in the process of getting tortured with feathers instead of fingers.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle, Dee~ My, isn't it funny how the human ribs can perfectly resemble the keys on a piano?" Vincent continued to use his nails to tap against his captive friend's ribs like they truly piano keys. "They can create a harmony of pure laughter~!"

Diedrich continued to shake his head as he took in multiple breaths between every few bursts of his childish giggles. Eventually, he managed to find enough energy to blurt out through his laughter, "Schrererew yohohohou, Phahahahatomhihive!"

"Oh? Did I just hear that correctly?" Vincent inquired, just as a sinister glow appeared in his eyes and went along perfectly with his diabolical grin. "My, my! I think that _someone_ needs to be taught a lesson in manners! Starting right ... _HERE!_"

Before the German aristocrat could get the chance to figure out what that meant, he ended up feeling the Queen's Guard Dog shoot his hands down to his hips and begin to attack them with his ticklish assault. Vincent really _was_ a professional at controlling his fingers and not to mention his devilish nails, scratching at Diedrich's surprisingly soft skin with them and never failing to miss even the tiniest hint of flesh.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Diedrich, as much as he despised admitting it, was unable to stop himself from practically exploding into a fit of contagious squeals. "NOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHA! PHAHAHANTOMHIHIVE! GHEHEHEHET AHAHAHAWAY! EEEK! DOHOHOHOHON'T DOHOHOHO THAHAHAT!"

"Don't do_ what?_" Vincent asked, obviously staging his innocence. "You mean ... _THIS?!_"

Once again, without giving the German dog much of a chance to fully understand what was about to happen, the Earl started drilling his thumbs directly into his life-time friend's hipbones. He spun them around like corkscrews, causing Diedrich's body to begin bucking in every possible direction. However, not only did the restraints around the blue-eyed gentleman's wrists and ankles prevent him from being able to move hardly at all; but no matter where he turned, Vincent's thumbs would simply follow him so it would be like he hadn't moved in the first place.

"Kitchy, kitchy, kitchy~!" Vincent teased, continuing to squeeze and drill his thumbs into the German Lord's hips for a couple of more seconds. "Come now, Dee~! Be a good German pup and at least _try _to stay still~! After all, we're going to be here for quite some time~!"

It really _was _going to be one hell of a long day...

* * *

**A/N: And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen! :) :)**

**With this ending, I'm sure you're all aware of why I'm considering to write a sequel for this sooner or later. XD**

**Nonetheless, as of now, I hope that you were all entertained by this one-shot and I hope that you'll be more than willing to share your thoughts on it! Once again, I love feedback! Don't hold back on telling me what you think! :D**

**At last, we have reached the end of this piece of work of mine. **

**Until the next update, everyone!**

**You've been one _hell_ of an audience! ;)**

**Crystalteen, out! **


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